Virgilio F. De leon Jr.
There was a dead body in the middle of the road. Half rotting as the sun baked it away. Still he thought that that unmoving corpse had a better fate than those that shambled all around it. The owner of that body was really dead but what could be said of the undead things that seemed alive and craving for flesh he was not really sure.All he knew was that he didn't want to end up like them.
He was watching all this from a tree. The same tree that he had clambered on to a few hours ago after running away from a group of these unholy creatures. The tree grew off to an odd angle from a wall that was erected several feet from a river bank.Below him was a curved portion of the river that disappeared amongst other structures. A stones throw away was the road which bent along with the water. He remembered speeding through here to bring his daughter to school in the early mornings. He always thought that if this tree grow any longer it would be a hazard on the road and have written the local Baranggay to have it cut. Oddly he was happy that none of the people gave a damn about his letter. He was safe here for now. The undead were looking at him hungrily from the road and several had went over the railings because they were reaching out for him.
He thought that food be a problem but there were leaves here for awhile and he could chew on that till he figured something out. He certainly could not climb down since there was also a mass of ghouls that were moaning from him. Ghouls below and around. No other trees in sight. No other walls , in fact no other thing but the road and the river. This was bad but he remembered someone saying that there were a hundred ways out of something , if you had a loaded gun to your head then , you could fight your way out or talk your way out. None seem like much of an option. The dead don't talk and fighting them one on one was suicide. Not only did they outnumber him a hundred to one , he had no other weapon but the swiss knife in his pocket. The Knife part being dull when he checked it. So No talking and no fighting.
Once or twice he thought of plunging to the river and taking his chances there. Until he saw the outreached arms and knew that there were a few of those things already in there before he even got here.
So the next best thing to do was wait. but wait for what he asked himself almost a dozen times in the last hour. A chance. Something. He was getting used to the smells and the never ending noise that the undead made. A Chance , he said to himself as he fell asleep in the highest branches of the tree.